


the mortifying ordeal of being known

by sestet



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Breaking and Entering, F/M, Romantic Comedy, Undercover Missions, and romance of course, who knew stealing secret information together would be a test of friendship and promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 13:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21075929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sestet/pseuds/sestet
Summary: "How would that work? That wouldn’t work! Anyways you would owe me a new eye and my life back!”





	the mortifying ordeal of being known

**Author's Note:**

> **notes**: there was a lot of inspiration behind this fic, primarily this [tinder tweet](https://twitter.com/daniellemj_/status/1184133496408817666?s=21), a piece of [mamori art](https://gabzilla-z.tumblr.com/post/153183527932/erdipurdiko-shes-going-to-have-to-learn-to), title is taken from a quote by Tim Kreider in an essay he wrote for the New York Times; also just how funny it'd be if they actually did do something like this (im sure they have). i gotta thank my good friend for once again reviewing this for me and helping me fix some grammar errors because for whatever ungodly reason, i always have comma splices like the fiend i am. anywho, enjoy some saikyoudai era hirumamos.  
**note2**: i've been shipping hiruma and mamori since i was twelve years old. unbelievable. all i'm hoping is i do these two justice.

**i.**

* * *

Mamori honestly thought it was something about football plays or maybe even some kind of scouting thing Hiruma would ask her about. What she was not expecting was to be asked if she could distract some security guard so he could hack into an opposing team’s computer to get exclusive footage on some mind blowing football technique.  


Now honestly, she thought Hiruma was better than this. He’s been a bit more tame since the first time she’s met him, but she guesses old habits die hard. Also she’s pretty sure Musashi and Kurita told her he’d do stuff like this, but she ended up not listening for some reason. _Idiot._  


So here she is, at ass o’clock chatting with some nervous security guard.  


“Oh, I see you have a gun there, may I hold it?” Mamori asks, batting her eyes. She was inside, making some false cover story that she needed help and was lost, worming her way inside so Hiruma could sneak past them. Honestly, it was a miracle they didn’t even get noticed in the first place. _Stupidity resides in the simplest of men,_ she supposes.  


The security guard shifts uneasily, cheeks heating up. “Ma’am, I really think you shouldn’t be here, _but I uh—_“  


Mamori leans in closer, glossed lips pursing. _Oh heavens help her, she wants the ground to swallow her up right now._  


“Are you sure?” she presses up against him, quickly flashing her eyes at the time. _Four minutes left. Come on Hiruma, hurry!_  


The security guard stiffens at the proximity, Mamori pressed up against him unabashedly. He begins to sweat, feeling his skin prickle.  


“M-maybe after my shift, we could go somewhere together?” He offers and Mamori brightens, pushing herself closer to him, her cleavage showing.  


_God, if Hiruma doesn’t hurry the hell up—_  


Suddenly her phone vibrates near her hip, a signal that he’s headed out, and Mamori thanks the heavens.  


“Well here’s my number,” she places a blank piece of paper in his pockets and it caused him to tense. “Call me, big boy,” she winks, quickly walking out of the double doors.  


The guard inside chokes a bit, coughing into his mouth. _What an odd night._

**ii.**

* * *

  


Mamori walks down the alley, checking her phone to see that Hiruma was waiting for her.  


She walks her way over, glaring at him.  


Hiruma flashes her an ear splitting grin. “Kekeke, how did it go?”  


Mamori crosses her arms over her chest.  


“It was mortifying,” she tells him and Hiruma throws his head back in laughter.  


“Stop! Honestly, only you would find this amusing!”  


“Of fucking course” is Hiruma’s response, Mamori shakes her head, wishing her hands could snake around his neck to strangle him.  


“_Unbelievable_, you know that. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”  


Hiruma raises an eyebrow then, a bubble between his face.  


“For creampuffs,” he declares as his gum pops, and Mamori turns so fast to look at him she swears her neck almost snapped.  


“Well ye—“  


“Let’s go,” he begins to walk and Mamori follows closely behind, goosebumps forming on her arms. She didn’t realize how cold it would be.  


Something came over her then. A jacket wrapped around her head as Hiruma walks into step beside her.  


“Wear that,” Hiruma tells her Mamori smiles.  


“Where are we going now? Did you get everything you needed?” She looks up at him. He’s looking at his phone and suddenly his smile is back, more wolfish than ever.  


“Yeah, found everything out. I burned a dvd of it and everything, kekeke, bastards won’t know what hit’em!”  


Mamori smiles warmly. “You really are something else, Hiruma.” His laughter quiets and he looks at her curiously.  


“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”  


“I don’t know, despite all the crazy, I still follow you anyways,” she laughs then. “Maybe we’re similar—anyways if you give me the CD now I can look it over.”  


Hiruma grins again. “We’re gonna go over it together, fucking manager.”  


Mamori looks up at him, her eyes wide.  


“Where at? It’s already 10 o’clock, Hiruma!” She hisses, walking closer to him as a group of men come walking past them.  


Hiruma suddenly stops and Mamori nearly runs right into him as he points up. She looks to see they’re already at the business hotel he resides in. Oh right.  


“We’re here.” She follows after him as they cross into the lobby and then into the elevator.  


“Before we go in, don’t say anything about my room, alright?”  


Mamori blinks up at him. She feigns hurt, “why would you think I would say anything about your room, Hiruma-kun?”  


She remembers the first time she came she kept crunching on piles of paper and shot him horrified looks. It was all for theatrical reasons, honestly. He nearly kicked her out then, but she didn’t say anything at that time though. It was all in her expressions.  


Hiruma rolls his eyes. “Whatever, let’s go.”  


They step inside and she forgets sometimes how small the place is. The other time she was here was when she took him some playbooks she worked on that night or last week when she needed a computer to work on her term paper.  


Hiruma had made her a deal that if she were to use one of his spares she had to come over, which honestly didn’t make much sense but she was in dire need of using one anyway so she didn’t question it too much, plus Cerberus kept her company. Now that Mamori looks around she already knows where everything is and what to do. 

She never realized how _many_ times she’s been to his place and had gotten so accustomed to it.  


She tip toes carefully by papers littered across the floor along with other miscellaneous items.  


Hiruma sits at his designated spot, laptop already balanced on his thighs as he pops the CD in.  


Mamori suddenly remembers she’s in this hideous revealing dress and then pales because they were at a private property. What if there were security cameras that saw the whole interaction between her and the guard?  


“Hiruma?” Mamori asks quietly, her nerves gripping her stomach.  


Hiruma doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing but he lifts his chin a little. “What?”  


“Did you turn off the security cameras back at that building?” Hiruma pops his gum and suddenly twirls some tiny device between his fingers.  


His eyes never stray from the screen of whatever he’s looking at. “I did, I set them back when we left, why?”  


Mamori sighs relieved, her wig feeling itchy on her head. “I was just worried someone would see me in this horrendous get up.”  


Hiruma makes a noise and then cracks a smile.  


“I picked that outfit out, you didn’t enjoy it?”  


Mamori turns red suddenly, the absolute ass would pick something this outrageous. She doesn’t know why she didn’t scold him about it before.  


“You are intolerable.” Mamori pauses, “but actually you already know that, so I don't need to remind you!” She snaps and Hiruma doesn’t say anything to that but she knows he’s grinning.  


“Hiruma?”  


“_Now_ what?”  


“Do you have a change of clothes I can wear?”  


Hiruma stops whatever he’s doing to finally look at her. He points to a pile of clothing by the bed. “Over there, there’s some old sweats and t-shirts.” Hiruma shifts suddenly, “and before you get on to me, they’re fucking clean for your information.”  


“Oh, I'm sure they are, mister disorganized chaos.”  


Hiruma continues his typing while Mamori sifts through the pile, picking out a white t-shirt and some gray sweats. She shuts the door to his bathroom and locks it, throwing a curious glance at the plethora of hair products and dyes he has by his sink.  


She takes off his jacket, folding it, and then struggles a bit with the skin tight dress, pulling it all the way down.  


Mamori breathes a bit easier once she slides on the pants and puts the shirt on. She needs to roll the cuffs of the sweats before she ends up slipping on his linoleum floors because of how they drag.  


Hiruma has one thing over her and it’s his height.  


She takes off the black wig, throwing her hair in a ponytail she starts to wash her face to scrub off the bit of makeup she had on to play her part.  


Finally breathing much easier, Mamori steps out, seeing Hiruma still typing away.  


“Took you long enough,” he says. She scowls at him.  


“You take longer than I do most days,” Mamori snaps, setting his black jacket on his bed as she walks over to see over his shoulder.  


He already has a spreadsheet going, jotting down different data on what he’s viewing from the video, along with other documents open.  


“Once we’re done with this, we can sleep for a bit,” Hiruma says and Mamori raises an eyebrow.  


“Am I staying here tonight?” She asks and Hiruma makes the hand signal for ‘Yes, fucking manager,’ causing Mamori to snort.  


“If I do that, you gotta let me use a toothbrush.”  


“Don’t you have one from the last time you were here?”  


Mamori walks back into the bathroom to see that her purple toothbrush was still sitting there on the mirror, untouched.  


Mamori glances at him again and she flushes. “Yeah there’s mine, I saw it. Sorry,” she walks over to him, looking over his shoulder once again.  


“By the time I print these off you can start your process,” he tells her, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes glance quickly over everything on the screen.  


Mamori has no idea how he’s able to stare at a screen for so long, but he does. He just does things so intensely that she’s surprised he hasn’t collapsed from exhaustion yet.  


Once she hears the printer going she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. He walks over to hand them to her.  


“Fuck, you need a pencil, hold on—“ he begins turning over his desk looking for one until he finally chunks one at her.  


Mamori thankfully catches it. “You’re lucky I have good hand-eye coordination, what if you poked _my_ eyes out?”  


Hiruma slumps back in his chair, looking amused. “Well, I would just have to use your other eye then.” Mamori looks at him dumbfounded.  


“How would that work? That wouldn’t work! Anyways you would owe me a new eye _and_ my life back!”  


“Kekeke, have fun with your theoretical glass eye, Anezaki,” he laughs again as if it was the funniest joke in the world to torment her existence.  


Mamori sticks her tongue out at him and begins to jot down the notes he needs for whatever.  


Suddenly, before she knows it, it's well into the next day and it’s five am.  


“Oh my god, my eyes are burning!” She grumbles out, rubbing them, and Hiruma makes some weird laughing noise that sounds like a snort.  


“Do you already need your sanity and fucking new glass eyes?”  


Mamori throws a crumpled piece of paper at him, which thumps against his cheek, his eyebrow twitching slightly.  


“I hope the next time you laugh, you choke,” she said darkly. Before Mamori could go on her other tirade, Hiruma interrupts her knowing exactly what she was thinking.  


“_Yeah, yeah emotional compensation, blah blah, I need my life back!_” He waves his hand, trying to quote and mimic her tone. Mamori just throws another wad of paper at him.  


“_I mean it!_”  


“I _know_ you do,” he adds.  


Mamori’s glare softens to a smile, scooching back to the headboard of the bed to lean up against, her eyes drift towards the slightly open window to see the sun rising.  


She supposes this is a lot better than being home alone at her dorm. She’d have to thank Hiruma later, once he gives her her cut of the deal. It’s only fair he has to pay for her year's supply of Kariya’s bakery cream puffs.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
